Fall

I drank too much Guinness last night at the West Side Tavern and ended up pontificating at length about the merits of fine whisky. After that, I headed down to Dylan Prime to meet up with a friend I hadn't seen in a while, and pontificated some more, this time about the miseries of being an unsuccessful screenwriter. My friend, thankfully, was kind enough to point out that I was being fucking ridiculous and that I should stop feeling so sorry for myself, because, honestly, I've got a pretty good thing going in this here life. Friends are helpful that way.

Dylan Prime, incidentally, is an excellent place. Be sure to tip the bartender.

Now I've successfully fought off most of my hangover, and I'm enjoying the warmth and light of my apartment. It's cold outside, but not too cold. Good scarf weather. Fall's on its way out, winter's on its way in, the leaves are piled on the sidewalk, and the kids playing roller hockey in the park down the block are wearing winter hats and gloves.

Tomorrow, I'm on my way to Florida, where I plan to swim in the ocean and walk on the beach with my girlfriend and enjoy the eighty-degree weather and watch the sun set over the Gulf of Mexico.

You're damn right I've got a good thing going.